


I Am Disappeared

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 08:53:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11055570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Growing up in the courts of Fairy, Peter didn't have many opportunities to learn about other humans.





	I Am Disappeared

**Author's Note:**

  * For [makiyakinabe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/makiyakinabe/gifts).



Growing up in the courts of Fairy, Peter didn't have many opportunities to learn about other humans. At first, it hadn't bothered him. He'd accepted the fairies' arrogance as proof of their superiority, and was too young to care about the loneliness that came of being the only human around. He'd been too absorbed by the intoxicating idea that he was special. He was different, he was the one who'd caught the fairies' attention. And if that meant he had to serve as their entertainment, that just meant that he always had a place.

His first encounter with human philosophies came about entirely accidentally. He'd been looking for a place to hide from one of the more feral fairies, one who didn't have a good sense of how much pain would be lethal. The library had seemed domestic enough to keep it away from him. He'd wandered the shelves idly, not paying attention, when he found a book that stood out from the others. It was leatherbound, like its neighbors, but its leather was dull and cracked. It didn't have the sheen of embedded magic.

Naturally, Peter opened it. He was still young and innocent enough to be shielded from the worst consequences of his actions, at least as long as he was amusing.

The book, it turned out, was human-made. Its topic was fairies, which was likely why it was kept around at all. It was from that book that Peter learned the true nature of his captivity.

The human-book claimed that fairies had no souls. They were unnatural, wicked creatures, incapable of feeling love or compassion. They preyed on humanity out of jealousy for their devotions, the one things the fairies could not have. For you see, the book said, fairies have no soulbonds. What a miserable existence they must have!

Peter nearly slammed the book shut then and there. It seemed that humans were as stupid as he'd been told. He knew full well that fairies had soulbonds. He knew, because he was one of them.

Not that he'd ever met his bonded. They'd been switched, Peter replaced in his crib by the mysterious fairy who held a piece of his soul. The only confirmation Peter had that they even existed was his meager magical ability, apparently shared across their bond.

Not that Peter particularly cared. He couldn't miss what he didn't know, couldn't worry about the constant ache beneath his breastbone when it had been with him since birth.

He looked up from the book and judged that it was probably safe to venture out of the library. His pursuer had likely forgotten Peter entirely in the face of some new plaything.

Peter looked at the book's strange rough cover once more. As dull as its contents were, it was the only contact he'd had with the human world, the world that was supposed to be his by birthright.

He gave a mental shrug and took the book with him.

He read the whole thing over the next week. He told himself he was doing it to laugh at the author's idiocy. They clearly knew nothing about fairies, and almost as little about the rest of the world. But he seemed to know humans well enough, and that was enough to keep Peter reading in spite of himself.

He finished the book and brought it back to the library before its absence was noted. He looked idly through the other books on the shelf, but they all seemed to be of fairy make. A quick scan of the library revealed more of the same. He was about to leave when he noticed a book shoved under a shelf.

He grabbed it hopefully, but a quick glance at its cover showed that it too was decidedly fairy. Its title alone would have given it away: "Ritual Magic: Gruesome Revenge Made Easy!" From what Peter had read, humans were neither as capable of magic nor as excited by the possibility of gruesome revenge.

But then, Peter had always known he was special. He had no one in particular he wanted to get revenge on, but if he was going to stay in a fairy court it seemed like the sort of thing that might be useful.

As it turned out, ritual magic was perfectly suited to someone like Peter. While preparing the ritual was often time-consuming and tedious, once you'd set up you only needed a tiny spark of magic to get results. Peter's bond couldn't supply him enough magic to stand up to even the weakest of fairies, but it was enough to set a ritual into motion. He showed off his first attempt, a circle to grow mushrooms, to the excitement of his patron. His ability to work glamors had gotten old, and this seemed a delightful new trick. He was granted permission to continue his rituals, provided he could continue coming up with new and entertaining ways to use them.

As time passed, Peter became more familiar with the internal structure of ritual magic. He noted which parts were necessary to achieve the desired effect, and which were failsafes to prevent magical backlash, and which were just there for aesthetic purposes. The latter were very common, as it turned out. He supposed that for the fey, appearances were the primary reason to use a ritual.

It was a simple step from there to altering rituals, and then to creating his own. He performed most of his experiments in secret. He didn’t think anyone would consider him enough of a threat to stop him, but his reputation was the closest thing he had to social standing. It would be a shame to lose that because he was testing his limits.

What he refused to admit even to himself was that he was beginning to plot. This was dangerous indeed in the courts of the fairies. Peter had no desire to be counted among the players of the latest game of politics. He had heard that one could not die while their soulbonded lived, but he was not naïve enough to think that death was the worst fate a fairy could inflict upon him.

He continued performing on command, showing off his flashier attempts and hiding the most powerful. He professed a willingness to teach those who would learn, though he never had to act upon his offer. And in his spare time, he wandered the halls of the court, taking notes for his yet unarticulated plan.

The court was protected by a powerful set of magical barriers, but every boundary had a place where it thinned. In the kitchens and stables, sites of utilitarian magic where no one of importance went, the barriers hadn’t been renewed in decades. Someone with enough time to study them could find a way to slip through, and Peter had nothing but time.

He assembled his components slowly. He drew up a sigil on the stable floor, claiming a desire to practice speaking with the horses. He took notes on the rituals to summon one’s deepest desire and to banish one’s enemies. He listened to the rumors of the faction’s plans, biding his time.

At last one of the major families made their move. It seemed several of the minor factions had gotten presumptuous and needed to be taught a lesson. The fallout was enough to distract all the most important fairies, and the gossip occupied the rest.

No one thought twice about a stray human making his way down to the stables yet again.

Peter took a deep breath and retraced his circle. He’d only get one chance at this, so it was imperative that each line and curve was in the proper position. He had no desire to tear himself in two.

When he could no longer convince himself of the need to delay, he stepped into the circle and began to chant. Though the words were new, the process was familiar and calming. He reached for the part of his soul that was occupied by the other, the source of his power and of his sorrows. He drew on that connection to create a spark and feed it to the circle.

Magic swirled around him, strengthening and pressing down on him until he was sure he would be found as a stain on the floor. Then, all at once, it stopped. He waited a five-count before venturing to open his eyes.

He was in an unfamiliar room, more rudimentary than could be found in even the lowest of the fairy houses. There was little inside but a bed and a figure staring at him in bewilderment.

Peter squinted at the man. His face was familiar, and it took Peter a moment to place it. There could be no denying it, though. The man before him was his own mirror image.

“I suppose I’ve succeeded, then,” Peter said, mostly to himself. He looked the other man in the eyes. “I’m sorry to intrude.”

The other man opened his mouth, closed it again. “What are you?” he finally forced out.

“I’m just a human, I’m afraid. My name is Peter.” Peter cast about for human greeting customs, but he’d never considered them important enough to learn. He stayed where he was. “I believe I am your soulbonded.”


End file.
